


Blind Date

by SaniCarmander



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: Blind Date, M/M, Rebirth, Redemption, Romance, Villains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-04-20 16:27:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14265021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaniCarmander/pseuds/SaniCarmander
Summary: One year after what was thought to be his untimely demise (pun intended), Ghirahim is very much alive and attempting to cope with a new mode of existence. Seeking to better understand the humans he now lives among, Ghirahim decides to go on a blind date. Maybe not so much to his dismay, his date partner is shockingly familiar...





	1. Date

    One year. One year with no master, no goal, no objective. A year spent to himself, for himself… it was difficult. He couldn’t remember how to enjoy life, he didn’t know how to spend each day without an objective hanging over him. He brooded over his inability to brood; it angered him. He still felt very well  _who_  he was, thank you very much, but he had lost  _what_  he was. He remembered the day his body broke- one year ago, when that  _vermin_  destroyed him (no, not him, he reminded himself, just his body). He was only a spirit, an existence without shape, and perhaps in that sense less than a spirit. It was dark, yet it was so bright. There was nothing, but the intense  _everything_  surrounding him was unbearable. He wasn’t in pain, he couldn’t feel at all, and yet he also felt everything at once. In this tranquil oblivion, a golden Voice twinkled a tune whose words he could not understand, yet which cut straight to the heart he no longer had:  
     _Ghirahim, have you completed your existence?_  
    No, Voice. The time you gave me… has been squandered.  
     _Then go, child. There is hope for you yet._  
    Soft grass. Soft sunshine. Soft twittering of the birds. Soft body.  
     _Soft body._  
    His eyes snapped open. Grey skin, white clothes, red mantle. No, not this form... His mind relaxed and focused; it should have been a simple matter, but he could not remember...  
     _Call to mind the image of yourself. Remember what you are, and that is the shape you will take._  
    What had he been, again? A sword. What kind of sword? Black. What variety…? Nothing. His skin remained stubbornly grey. He could no longer call to mind the image of himself.  
    That was his first memory of his new year, and here he was again. What had he done during that time? He told the Voice his time had been squandered. Was he not still doing so, only on a more extreme measure? Thousands of years he had lived with one goal… with what the humans called “tunnel vision,” no?  
    Those humans… he clenched his teeth and remembered once looking down upon them, and then two faces called to his mind. The first, that boy… that dastardly boy, who he had been so quick to regard as a simply pest, and who had so quickly proved to be a deadly plague. The face in his mind was smiling joyfully. So was the other face… the human face of the goddess, whose world his once Master had set out to claim as his own. Once he was so quick to disregard beings such as those, those  _humans_ , whose allotted time were but a blink of the eye compared to his own, who nonetheless wasted that precious time on endless squabbling over trivialities which served no meaningful goal, who bred like rabbits so their offspring could continue doing the same, and all too soon completed their existence and crumbled into the dirt.  
    One month in his new life and this view had been shaken. He stared into a spring of clear water, at his own face… and saw the humanoid form which he knew he had taken, and which he had refused to acknowledge. Eyes, nose, ears, and mouth… a bipedal body, a sharp mind, and a dim yet surviving soul. It was a shape once used for convenience, which he had been free to change at any time… now it was the shape into which he had  _become_. At the instruction of the Voice, a shape strange in coloration, but undeniably human, was now his own. If he was unable to complete his existence as a… sword… did the Voice mean to imply he was to complete his existence as a human?  
    This was not what he was. This is what he is. Ghirahim’s mind clashed within itself, but he was resolved not to lose his composure… it was that very behavior which had cost him the meaning he once had. Very well. He would attempt to live as the humans do, to occupy himself with pettiness… Where did humans find that pettiness? For the most part, within each other. In their friends, in their family… perhaps most remarkably of all, they regularly went through a ceremony in which they bound each other to another person with whom they had no reason to associate, and ideally stayed bound to this other person for the remainder of their pitifully short lives. It was within these relationships that a good deal of human preoccupation was concentrated; many humans had a poor concept of life without such circumstances.  
    The humans which had come to live at the Surface… when he pressed them for an explanation to such behavior, they gave many reasons. But the one word which he heard most often… “love.” “Well when you love somebody, there’s not much else to do,” “oh, you know, that thing where you just lose your head over somebody,” “well not everybody falls in love in that way- plenty of folks go through life only loving their family and friends- but honey, those that do engage in romance just can’t seem to get enough of it!”  
    “Well, son, if you’re really so curious about romance, maybe you ought to try it yourself!” Pumm set down a steaming bowl of pumpkin soup in front of Ghirahim, who sat with his elbows propped on the bar.  
    “Try it myself, you say?” Ghirahim stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s a thought… although frankly my appearance doesn’t endear me to many.”  
    “Oh, bah,” the round bartender waved him down, “Womenfolk are known to go for all types.”  
    “Hmm?” Ghirahim raised his eyebrows, “Womenfolk? Ah… your kind typically pair males and females, presumably for reproductive purposes.”  
    Pumm burst into laughter, “I guess I never really thought of it that way, but yeah. Not to say there ain’t folks who’d rather get with their own kind, so to speak, or folks who’ll swing it both ways. Well, I’ve always been one t’say love is love, and that’s what romance’s all about.”  
    Ghirahim relaxed, daintily taking in a spoonful of soup. “So, ideally, romance is based on ‘love,’ rather than approached with end goals pertaining to social status and future stability.”  
    “If we’re talkin’ ideals, sure. ‘Course, that ain’t always the case…” Pumm glanced over at his own daughter, Kina, who had spent the past two years willfully ignoring a smitten wooer, a good man without a rupee to his name. “But you’re talkin’ ‘bout serious commitment here. Look, take my advice: start off with somethin’ casual. There’s no need to go all in lookin’ for a life partner. Just someone to make some good memories with will do just fine. If things go from there, great. If not, well, better luck next time… Say, here’s an idea, son. Why don’t you try a blind date?"  
    Ghirahim furrowed his brow. “And what in the goddess’ name is that?”  
    Pumm grinned. “It’s a good opportunity to meet people if you’ve got no experience doing it yourself, is what it is. Do you know Peatrice?”  
    “Uh…” Ghirahim paused, racking his memory. “Oh, the silly girl at the item check.”  
    “Yeah, that’s the one, only she quit that jig months ago. Now she’s started this thing called a ‘dating service,’ although between you and me I think she’s just trying to find a match for herself… why don’tcha try swinging by her place tomorrow?”  
    “Hm… perhaps I will.” Ghirahim finished his soup in silence, contemplating Pumm’s suggestion.

    The idea had intrigued him too greatly. He spent that night considering the possibility of entering a romance, and set to work imagining what kind of human could possibly interest him in that way. The first face that came to mind was a dreadfully familiar one; he pushed it aside in disgust, but it left behind an idea. He had no intentions of reproduction- that was a matter for beings with more finite lifespans- and by his observation human women seemed to approach romance more seriously, which Pumm had advised against. Therefore, he would look for a male romantic partner. Someone able to compete with him physically would be best, although he hardly expected to find a human capable of such (again, he remembered  _him_ ). A partner able to have intellectual discussions would be preferable. And perhaps someone more emotionally in tune with others, as his ultimate goal here was to understand what humans called “love.” He needed someone who intuitively valued the connections between people at a level as deep as that which bound human society together. So, he was looking for a warm, sensitive, intelligent man… Ghirahim was startled by a spurt of excitement, like a stab in his sternum. Perhaps it was that which stiffened his resolve to see the Peatrice girl the very next day.  
    “Aww, geez, another gay guy,” the girl had moaned upon reviewing his application, much to Ghirahim’s chagrin.  
    “Is there some objection to be made?” he asked through gritted teeth.  
    “Oh, no, I suppose not… it’s just that you’re the second one I had today! Alright, fine, fine, it’s not like I’m lookin’ for somebody too… Alright. Just wait over there and I’ll tell you if I got a match for you. If not, well, you can leave, and I’ll let you know if a match shows up. Oh, by the way, for our blind dates we have an anonymity policy… you aren’t gonna know the person’s name until you meet them.”  
    “Pardon?” Ghirahim furrowed his brow. “What kind of idiotic policy is that?”  
    “Look buddy, I didn’t ask if you like it, I told you that’s what the rules are,” Peatrice replied disinterestedly, rifling through a stack of papers, “You’ll know everything else about him anyway, so what’s the big deal? Here, have a look at these.” She shoved two or three slim files towards Ghirahim. “And don’t go lookin’ for names, ‘cause you won’t find ‘em in there.”  
    Ghirahim frowned and grumbled as he sat down at a stool. The first folder fell open.  _“Male, 18. Hiya, I’m just a guy looking for a little love in my life! I like trying all kinds of new things, but my favorite hobbies are swordplay and hanging out with friends. When I’m by myself, I like to unwind by reading about history and writing. I’m hoping to meet somebody I can really connect with, and I hope you are too!”_  
    “So, what do you think?” Peatrice asked, peering over at him. Ghirahim grinned widely; it wasn’t an attractive expression. “Yes, I think this one will do.”  
    Peatrice sighed. “Great… let’s see if we can arrange a date.”  
  
     _The Lumpy Pumpkin, Thursday, 19_ _th_ _hour._  It was 15 minutes past the appointed time, and Ghirahim was tapping his foot impatiently against the bar.  
    “Hold your pants, son, he’ll be here soon enough,” Pumm said soothingly.  
    “Still, perfectly unreasonable! We might have had an appointment… and I don’t even know who this guy is. I keep worrying he’s already here and I just haven’t recognized him!” Ghirahim’s tapping sped up.  
    “Nah, I’m sure you’ll know each other when you see ‘im… what’s he look like again?”  
    Ghirahim pursed his lip. “That’s another thing; the description in his note was really vague. I know he’s a young guy, and a blond, but that’s abou-”  
    “AAYYO, HIYA PUMM!” A figure in a long-sleeved cream shirt came bursting through the door and dashed toward the bar, a bouquet of what appeared to be a dozen red roses over one shoulder. “Crap, crap, crap, I’m late, I’m super late!” the figure came crashing into the bar, clumsily tossed the bouquet on the counter, then stumbled and knocked over a couple of stools, causing a stunned Ghirahim to flinch slightly.  
    I _s that…? No, impossible, it can’t be him…_  
    Pumm chuckled merrily.“What are you late for this time, Link?”  
    _Oh, FUCK._  
    “I told ya you didn’t have to work here anymore…”  
    “It’s not that, it’s worse!” the scrambling young man exclaimed as he hurriedly replaced the fallen stools on their feet. “A date! I’m totally late for a date! I was taking a nap and I woke up, like, thirty minutes ago and then I had bedhead and had to pick up the flowers and oh, nuts, I bet he probably left already!”  
    Ghirahim’s eyes widened considerably. “A date, huh?” Pumm asked slyly. “Who’s the lucky gentleman?”  
    “Thing is I don’t actually know; I’m trying that blind date thing … you seen a guy with white hair?” Link hoisted himself on a newly upright stool. Pumm chuckled and walked away from the bar, toward the kitchenette, calling over his shoulder, “Yeah, he’s about three feet to your left!”  
    Link jerked his head around, his face lighting up with a sunny grin. “Oh really?!” He and Ghirahim locked eyes. Both men froze.  
     _Link. It’s Link. A blond guy who likes swordplay. The boy who destroyed my former body, who changed what I am, who slew my FORMER master, who gave me this directionless year, who has, now it fully occurs to me, become involved in my cracked idea to live as a human._  The blood was rushing in his ears. His temples were pounding. A rage such as he had not felt since regaining a body was rising in him, flooding from the tips of his toes up his slender abdomen, reaching towards his heart, flooding up his burning throat, just touching the base of his brain.  
    Link’s face broke into a look of innocent amazement. “Great goddesses, Ghirahim, is that really you?”  
    His rising fury halted, doused in the waters of Link’s round eyes, clearer than a lake, deeper than the sky… He rose to his feet anyway, clenching his teeth. “Unfortunately for you,  _sky child_ , it is I.”  
    “Unfortunately?” Link questioned wonderingly, tilted his head slightly to one side, not showing the faintest acknowledgement of Ghirahim’s menacing movements. He reached into the pocket of his baggy green trousers and pulled out a folded piece of parchment, which he proceeded to open and read aloud.  
     _“_ _Very well; I will see you at the Lumpy Pumpkin this Thursday at the 19th hour. I have a propensity to arrive early to my appointments, so you may recognize me by my unusual appearance. Look for my white hair and brown eyes; in all likelihood, I will be dressed in red.”_  Link lowered the parchment and dragged his eyes down Ghirahim, resting them in turn on his smoky eyes and deep crimson jumpsuit. Ghirahim glared at his hateful ( _gorgeous_ ) face.  
    Link threw his head back and burst into a rich, giggling laugh. “On a date? With Ghirahim?! Great Goddess, I am on a date with the  _actual_  Ghirahim!!” He slammed his fist on the bar as he reached a level of mirth that rendered him silent but shaking, tears streaming down his face. Ghirahim’s rage wavered, wanting to peak in indignation yet infected by the strangely contagious sound Link was emitting. Was Link mocking him? No… that’s the pure laughter of a child. Link gasped for air. “Ghirahim!” he choked out, finally stabilizing as he inhaled deeply. He wiped his eyes, “Great Goddess above, what a blessed day this is!” Ghirahim watched apprehensively as Link too got to his feet, reaching toward… the flowers? Link snatched up the slightly battered bouquet of roses and pressed them into the shocked Ghirahim’s arms. Their rich red and somehow terrible beauty touched Ghirahim’s aesthetic sense, softening his heart in spite of himself. Link flashed him a somewhat stupid but undoubtedly genuine smile. “Allow me to present you a bouquet worthy of your beauty, my dear Ghirahim.”  
    “Uhh…” For the first time in Ghirahim’s rather expansive life, he was unsure how to react. He was still seething, although that feeling was ebbing away rather against his will.  _My dear Ghirahim._  He felt his heart slam into his throat. “There’s rather no need to call me ‘dear,’ you idiot boy.”  
    Link frowned slightly, “Hey, that’s no way to talk to a guy who's buying you dinner.” He suddenly hooked his left arm around Ghirahim’s right, grinning again. “Come now, I think a quiet corner table for two is in good order.” And the yet again speechless Ghirahim suddenly found himself being led away to a candlelit corner away from the bar. Link called merrily over his shoulder, “Mr. Pumm, we’ll take two bowls of soup… and a bottle of that ‘wine’ stuff from the Surface, if you don’t mind.”  
    Ghirahim sat down (or rather was made to sit down) on a stool at a small wooden table, away from the rest of the gaudily lit bar. Link was cheerily humming as he sat down opposite his date. Ghirahim, hesitated slightly, and then rather tenderly set the roses down on a nearby empty shelf. He felt confused and somewhat disturbed by the warmth rising in his cheeks; it was a feeling he usually associated with rage, yet that particular emotion was subsiding at a rather alarming rate. Link, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease, still grinning like… like a child.  
    With Ghirahim in such a perturbed state, it was Link who broke the silence first. “You know, I’m really happy to see you,” he stated cheerfully, propping his elbows on the table and resting his face in his hands. Ghirahim’s eyes widened.  
    “And why is that, sky child? Looking to settle a score with an old foe?” Link looked politely confused.  
    “Nope, just glad you aren’t dead.”  
    “Faugh!” Ghirahim spat.  _Stupid boy, you have no proper respect for your enemies. Do you understand? We are enemies!_  
    A brief silence followed. Link broke it once again. “So, uh… I have to ask. How exactly did you survive?” Ghirahim took a moment to glare at his infuriatingly good-natured face before responding.  
    “For your information, sky child, my kind are not ones to be killed so easily,” he said smoothly, “What you destroyed was my body; my essence remained intact.”  
    “Oh,” Link acknowledged, raising a hand to his chin and sitting back in his chair, “Then how-”  
    “Here ya go, boys!” Kina interrupted, setting down two massive bowls of pumpkin soup, a bottle of rich red wine, and two glasses in front of them. “Thanks, Kina!” Link said as she uncorked the wine. “No problem, hun,” Kina replied, winking at Link, “You two enjoy!” Link grinned happily as she left.  _I should at least enjoy a drink if nothing else, tonight._  Ghirahim reached for the wine. “Oh, no, please let me!” Link waved his hand aside, picking up the bottle himself and pouring a generous measure first into Ghirahim’s glass and then into his own. He raised his glass slightly, a smile once again playing about the corners of his lips. “Cheers,” he said. Ghirahim hesitated for a moment, faltering at the sight of Link’s gentle eyes before likewise raising his glass and grumbling, “Cheers.”  
    They both drank deeply; the vinegary liquid seemed to soothe Ghirahim’s nerves almost instantly. He found himself studying Link over the rim of his glass. Link’s gaze had not left him. He shifted uncomfortably on his stool. Still, the look in Link’s eyes was gentle and polite, not a hint of malice or ill will. What exactly was the matter with this boy? Had he simply forgotten their battles, Ghirahim’s maniacal threats, the pain they had both endured, the simple fact that he was a “good” guy and Ghirahim was a “bad” guy?  
    “Doesn’t any of this bother you?” Ghirahim suddenly said out loud, setting his glass down with a clang.  
    “Any of…? Oh, this? Um…” Link paused thoughtfully, then gave a small laugh. “Nope, not really.” Ghirahim raised an eyebrow; Link only tilted his head, his smile fading slightly. “I mean it, really,” Link said with surprising firmness. “As far as I’m concerned, the past is in the past. We had our fight, and the conflict is over. I have no reason to resent you, or even dislike you for that matter.” Ghirahim furrowed his brow. Were these the words of Hylia’s chosen defender, supposedly his sworn enemy?  
    “You killed my master,” Ghirahim stated quietly.  
    Link furrowed his brow, silent for a moment. “… And I can’t honestly say I’m sorry for doing that. What I can say that I’m sorry for is what that may have put you through.”  
    Ghirahim stared up into Link’s (compassionate) face. “My trials and tribulations have nothing to do with you, sky child,” he said coldly. Much to his surprise, Link replied with equal firmness.  
    “They do if I’m the one that caused it.”  
    Ghirahim pursed his lips. “You’re too soft, boy. You did what you had to do.”  _Am I… defending him? What kind of reverse psychology is this? Months I spent imagining him at my feet, begging for mercy, yet here I am telling him not to concern himself. Why?_  He took another long draught of wine and started on his soup.  
    Yet another moment of silence, filled only with their (or rather, Link’s) slurps and the clattering of silverware. Yet again, it was Link who broke it. “Man, this soup really is world class… So, what have you been up to then?” Ghirahim smiled slightly, realizing that the boy was apparently determined to be friendly with him. Very well; he would play along.  
    “Frankly, I’ve been learning how to be a human.” Unable to help himself, he added rather waspishly, “It’s rather difficult to find a new objective after several millennia of one’s hard work being foiled.”  
    Link chose to ignore this last comment, “So, you decided to try dating?”  
    “In simple terms, yes. I noticed that humans seem to have obsession with such things, and found myself rather attracted to the idea.”  
    The corners of Link’s mouth twitched. “And attracted to men, too?”  
    Ghirahim smirked, tossing back the hair covering his left eye.  _These humans and their conventions._  “Sex and gender are not a matter of consideration among my kind, sky child, as we seldom reproduce and obey only the hierarchy of servant and master. I opted to date males out of simple convenience.”  
    Much to his surprise, Link giggled. “I’d hardly call it convenient. Not that guys dating guys is a taboo thing around these parts; it’s just not something people talk about.”  
    Ghirahim felt his smirk widen. “Once again, the conventions I am familiar with are not the same as your own.”  
    “I’m a little jealous, to be honest,” Link replied, his eyes dancing, “I only just let everyone know that I’m gay last year. I had a crush on this guy, Pipit, but he has a girlfriend… and since then I’ve just had the damndest time finding somebody. It’s like you finally meet a guy who likes guys, but then they’re the wrong age, or your personalities don’t mesh, or you just plain old aren’t attracted to them. I was at my wit’s end when Zelda suggested I try a blind date.” Ghirahim pursed his lips. “Oh, sorry, you probably don’t want to talk about her,” Link said quickly, “But anyway it’s just difficult to find somebody if you’re not willing to date just anybody, ya know?”  
    “I’m afraid I don’t know,” Ghirahim replied gravely, “This is a rather new experience for me. And frankly, I never expected you to be involved in this little experiment of mine.”  
    Link grinned, a somewhat sly look in his eye. “Well, I’m rather honored to be a part of it, Ghirahim.”  
    Ghirahim looked at Link, slightly confused as he tried to process the twinkle in his blue eyes.  _Is he…? Ah, yes, I’ve heard of this. This is what the humans call “flirting.”_ He suddenly recalled Link’s friendly mannerisms, the flowers, pouring the wine… and it occurred to him that Link may actually be taking the date seriously. Ghirahim felt his cheeks flush hot- no,  _burning_ \- and an egg-sized lump rose in his throat, causing him to choke and splutter midway through a sip of soup. “Woah, you okay there?!” Link raised his voice in concern. “Yes, yes, I’m fine,” Ghirahim managed to gasp out.  
    Link grinned again, apparently suppressing a giggle. “Geez, Ghirahim, maybe you shouldn’t eat so fast… are you that anxious to leave me?” Ghirahim’s cheeks somehow managed to burn hotter as he looked up, and suddenly felt transfixed by Link’s face. It was as if he was seeing him for the first time.  
     _There’s no denying it to myself; he is gorgeous. Those round, friendly eyes and that persistent smile… he’s beautiful, even, in his rather endearingly dopey way._  “Your presence has nothing to do with my dining abilities, sky child,” he said coolly enough, yet he was unable to tear his eyes away from Link’s.  
    Link only grinned wider. “Of course, of course. Excuse me for a moment…” He looked off to his side and called out, “Kina, we’re ready for the bill whenever you’ve got a chance!” Ghirahim heard her voice reply as if from the opposite end of a long tunnel. “Sure thing, hun!” Link refocused his gaze on Ghirahim.  
    His heart leapt, and words rose to his lips without his thinking. “Perhaps it is you who are anxious to leave me, sky child.”  
    Link’s eyes twinkled yet again. “Not at all,” he replied, his voice wavering slightly, “I simply don’t want to keep you up too late…” It was a feeble excuse, but he was saved the trouble of backing it up by the arrival of Kina.  
    “Here ya go, hun! Will that be together or separate?”  
    “Together,” Link replied quickly. Ghirahim heard himself protesting, “Link, you really needn’t...” For some reason, Link’s cheeks flushed cherry red as he waved Ghirahim down. “No, no, I insist! Here ya go, Kina.” He deposited the rupees in her hand and sent her on before Ghirahim could debate the matter further.  
    “Well, Ghirahim, may I escort you outside?” Link asked with a small smile, rising to his feet.  
    “I… uh… yes, I suppose you may.”  _Don’t forget the flowers._  Ghirahim turned away, relieved at finally being able to look away from Link, but found the sight of the bouquet of red roses sent a shiver up his spine. He tucked the bouquet rather tenderly under his arm, turning back towards Link but unable to look above his chest level, despite Link being considerably shorter than himself. “Shall we?” Link offered his hand, his voice smooth again.  
    “Yes, let’s,” Ghirahim accepted, losing his breath as he felt Link slip his hand around his arm yet again. Walking as such, Link led him out the door.  
    Outside the night was cool- nights always were in the Isle of the Goddess- but the sky around and above was deep blue and strewn with countless stars. A breeze seemed to follow the pair as they walked silently, but not uncomfortably, toward the jumping platform. Stopping on the wooden structure, almost dizzy at the sight of the cloud blanket beneath them, Ghirahim found himself looking down at the cheerfully smiling Link. Link likewise looked up at Ghirahim, nearly mesmerizing him with the dark blue his eyes became in the moonlight. Ghirahim suddenly felt that he should say something, anything, now confronted with thousands of possibilities. Would tonight be the only night? Did he want to see Link again?  
    “Well, sky child, I suppose this is goodbye,” Ghirahim finally spoke.  _Yes, you do. You actually want to see Link again._  He felt another stab in his chest.  
    Link’s smile faltered. “Yep, I guess it is.” Ghirahim intended to turn and leave, but his feet remained rooted to the spot. His business here was yet unfinished, but as far as what that business may be…  
    “Uh…” he began awkwardly, “Well, if I may ask so inelegantly, what now?”  
    Link’s face lit back up ever so slightly. “What do you mean, what now?” he asked, not entirely convincing Ghirahim of his ignorance.  
    “Don’t play dumb, boy.” Ghirahim’s words were gruff, but his voice was smooth. “You and I have been on a date. I don’t know how you humans typically conclude such interactions, nor do I know what may be expected of me in the future.”  
    “Oh!” Link replied, his eyes now sparkling, “Well, Ghirahim, that sort of thing is really up to how you feel.”  
    “How I… feel?” Ghirahim echoed in slight bewilderment.  _Is he requesting confirmation or denial of romantic interest, or is he referring to my overall emotional state?_  
    “Yes, how you feel.” Link affirmed. “Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”  
    “Hmm…” Ghirahim betrayed a slight expression of surprise before furrowing his brow. He hesitated, thinking. “Why, yes,” he at last answered slowly, “I suppose my evening was indeed pleasant.” And all of a sudden, he was intensely aware of just how close Link was standing next to him, the way he was looking up at him, his round eyes shining…  
    “Great,” Link said softly, “My evening was really great too, ya know.” Ghirahim’s heart was pounding in his ears; he blamed this for a sudden lack of clarity in his thoughts. “Uhh… great?” Link was close, he was much too close. “Yeah,” Link whispered dreamily, “great…” Ghirahim froze.  
    Link’s arms were around his neck, pulling Ghirahim’s head down slightly. Before Ghirahim could register what was happening, he felt a warm moistness against his mouth. In that instant he felt his heart shatter and the shards melt; something inside himself felt deliciously  _human_. He was pressing back against Link with all the force he could muster, although it seemed his body had turned to gelatin. It was incredible, blissful, unlike anything he had experienced in his extensive lifespan. He remembered Link’s roses; for this first time he saw red without thinking of bloodshed, violence, and anger. Instead, everything in the world was the warmth against his lips, Link’s softness, the scent filling his head, an ecstasy beyond anything he could have comprehended prior to that night…  
    And it was over much too soon. Ghirahim was still in a state of mental rapture, marred by stabs of annoyance and disappointment. He barely heard Link’s sweet, shaking voice whisper in his ear, “Write me a letter, and tell me how that felt.” He felt the platform vibrate as Link leapt into the wind, a flash of moonlit crimson breezing past the figure left standing on the platform. Ghirahim’s mind buzzed blankly as he watched Link’s back disappear toward Skyloft. Long after he was but a pinprick in the distance, Ghirahim stood there in wondering silence.  
     _Well,_  he finally thought, _I suppose I should return home and get started on that letter._  He snapped his fingers, and vanished in a flurry of red and black.

 


	2. Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a short one, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. This part takes the form of a letter written from Ghirahim to Link following their date. As you read this, you should bear in mind that while it is in first person, we are not seeing directly into Ghirahim's thoughts. Instead, we are seeing how he wishes to represent himself to Link. Although it is something we seldom think about, human interactions are all based on this principle; we see people not as they are, but as they are presented and represented. I decided to post this letter alone, without describing the actual process of Ghirahim writing the letter, because I want to leave it up to you to imagine what Ghirahim may have been thinking and feeling while writing this letter.

_Dear_ ~~_Link_ ~~ _Sky Child,_

    I hope this letter finds you well; I’m not yet familiar with the postal system, having never had use for it prior to now. In accordance with your insolent request, I suppose I can indulge you with my thoughts on our…  _interesting_  evening.  
    I’m rather annoyed. I was trying this “dating” ordeal simply for amusement, and I instead have experienced something more, shall we say, intense. The last person I expected to encounter tonight was you, sky child; perhaps you have some inkling of the shock and rage I felt upon seeing you. Let me be clear, boy: I despise you. You destroyed my Master, may his glory persevere, an action comparable to killing another’s father in human society. Were we not in a public place tonight, let me assure you I would have enacted my revenge. Moreover, I am no longer certain of the propriety of vengeance. I am now an outcast among demons; I have nothing to prove, nor do I have anything to gain by challenging you. I have lost access to my true power; I no longer possess a demon’s body, again thanks to you.  
    In short, you are single-handedly responsible for the lion’s share of turmoil in my life; I assure you I do not appreciate it. Nevertheless, I stand by my words this evening: I have no desire for your apologies. I simply want it to be understood that whatever may be going through your nonsensical little mind right now, I still regard you as an enemy. I have not entirely ruled out the possibility of killing you, should circumstances make such an act advantageous to myself.  
    That being my position, your behavior tonight was positively bewildering. It is possible that you are too dim to comprehend what our positions are relative to one another; there is no justification for the friendliness you displayed tonight. A reasonable hero would have challenged me to a duel upon sight. You, on the other hand, decided to give me flowers, treat me to dinner, and from what I gathered even displayed a romantic interest in me. It has occurred to me that you may just have a warm personality; this is difficult for me to ascertain, given most of our interactions have involved negligible conversation. You may have an ulterior motive behind your actions, although, given that I am a man with nothing, I am uncertain what you could hope to gain from me. Somehow, I doubt that this is the case; after all, you are rather too simple for such scheming.  
    Most noteworthy of your actions was your decision to kiss me. You asked me specifically how the kiss felt, so I suppose I will oblige you. I rather enjoyed that; I had never experienced such a thing before tonight. It was quite thrilling, if I must succinctly describe the bizarre mental state I entered during the kiss. I’m still trying to understand what exactly it is I’m feeling, but when I think of you something strange seems to happen to me. It is not unpleasant, but it’s strange.  
    As for our actions from this point forward: if it is agreeable to you, I wouldn’t be too irritated at having another date. I did embark on this project for amusement, after all. I’ve already gotten rather more amusement than I bargained for, but I suppose I’m willing to keep on going for now. If you’re interested, please let me know when you’re available next, and we can make arrangements.

 

_Sincerely,_

_Ghirahim_


	3. Contemplation

    “You did  _what_?” Zelda yelped, dropping the crimson scarf she was knitting. It tumbled underneath the small wooden table in a fluffy heap, where it lay momentarily forgotten.  
    Link smirked and turned over on Zelda’s pink bedspread, propping himself up on one elbow. “You heard me; I totally kissed him, right there on the jumping platform.” He felt his face turn warm; he knew Zelda would see right through the swagger he was trying to display, but felt compelled to keep up the act anyway.  _Better to keep up a facade than swoon like a little girl, right?_  he thought to himself. The corners of Zelda’s mouth twitched.  
    “And…?” she asked. He raised an eyebrow at her and echoed, “And?” Now she had the smallest of smiles. “And how was it, Mr. Flirt?”  
    Link’s face burned, and he clenched his lips together, unwillingly shifting his gaze downward. It didn’t make a difference; he could still feel Zelda’s gaze boring into him. He muttered to the quilt on her bed, “It was…well…”  _Thrilling. Intoxicating. Dizzying. Brilliant._  “Uh…well, he kissed me back.”  
    He looked up as Zelda’s mouth dropped in a perfect ‘O’ shape. Her chest shook slightly. “Oh, baubles,” she whispered faintly… and then the giggles rose in her throat. “You’re definitely sure it was Lord Ghirahim?” she tittered, obviously trying to suppress herself, and Link started to giggle too.  
    “You know any other grey guys who talk like a nighttime Beedle?” At the mention of this inside joke, Zelda’s laughter burst like a seafoam bubble.  
    “Link, you are CRAZY!” she doubled over on her seat, pressing her face against her knees. “Baubles, Link, you made out with Ghirahim?!”  
    “HEY, we didn’t  _make out_ ,” Link protested as he sat up indignantly, nonetheless still laughing, “It really was just a kiss!”  
    “Oh, nonsense, Link, I can just look at you and tell that was no ordinary kiss to you.” Zelda picked her head up, her laughter subsiding but the light in her eyes still dancing merrily. “You weren’t just having fun, were you? You’re seriously hoping this will lead somewhere.”  
    Link paused.  _What exactly was he hoping for?_  “Umm… I guess I haven’t really thought about it.” He scratched the back of his head. Zelda’s face suddenly turned serious.  
    “Link, look, I know it’s not exactly your way to think before you act, but…”  _Oh dear, here comes the lecture._  “But you really need to pause and reconsider what you’re doing. I mean, Ghirahim did try to kill me. He tried to kill all of us.” Link felt like the air had been sucked out of him. The temperature in the room seemed to drop suddenly. He simply stared at Zelda, who narrowed her intense blue eyes. “Look, Link, I trust you, but I also know you’re the type to trust just about anybody. That’s why Groose walked all over you for so many years. You were always willing to give him a second chance.”  
    “Okay, I gotcha, but this isn’t Groose,” Link started to protest. Zelda held up a finger, silencing him.  
    “Yes, instead it’s someone with the capacity to be far more dangerous. I’m not telling you that you can’t or shouldn’t act on your feelings. I know I can’t stop you from doing that… I’m just telling you to be careful,” she spoke firmly. Link pouted for a moment, then finally stretched.  
    “Yes, mother,” he yawned with just a hint of sarcasm. Zelda rolled her eyes.  
    “I’m just telling you this for your own good, you know.”  
    “I know, I know,” Link acknowledged, his voice softening in spite of himself. He stood up. “Whelp, Zel, I think I’m gonna hit the sack.” Zelda sighed softly, gathering up the scarf she had dropped.  
    “Don’t sleep in too late. I know you don’t have class until later, but you need to stay on your sleeping schedule.”  
    Link yawned again and stretched. “Yeah, yeah, just wake me up by 9. G’night!”  
    “Good night, Link!” he heard Zelda respond as the door softly clicked behind him.  
_Nope, she hasn’t changed a bit,_  Link thought as he strolled down the hall, sliding down the banister to the ground floor. Well, maybe that wasn’t entirely true. She was the same motherly-bordering-on-bossy type she had always been, but now she had powers. She just had  _intuition_ , and as hard as it was to keep things from her before, now it was nigh on impossible. She had sensed Ghirahim’s energy around Skyloft and the Surface several times, but had decided that picking a fight with him would only do more harm than good. After all, if Link wasn’t able to destroy him in the fight with Demise, there was no guarantee he could do so now. A battle would only endanger bystanders… and moreover, Ghirahim’s presence didn’t seem to have a remotely negative effect on those around him.  
    Zelda seemed to find all this very puzzling, and admittedly so did Link at first. But as he pointed out to Zelda, he didn’t think Ghirahim would be a threat without Demise. After all, hadn’t his sole motivation for his past actions been to serve the will of his master?  
    Link’s theory was only confirmed when Zelda told him that Ghirahim’s aura no longer seemed to cast a dark shadow around him. So, while Zelda was still on tenterhooks, looking for the faintest sign of danger, Link was content to live and let live. Indeed, he had found himself hoping to meet Ghirahim, and before tonight, he couldn’t have even begun to explain why.  
    His heart was still throbbing as he pushed open the door to his room and collapsed on the bed. One thing Zelda could not sense, that she could never know, was the way Ghirahim mesmerized him. He had always thought so… that the man was certainly evil, definitely bloodthirsty, and possibly psychotic, and yet he had never been able to hate him. The closest he ever came to hating him was when he saw Zelda suspended mid-air, Ghirahim dancing and chanting, Zelda crying in pain, her spirit being ripped from her body… At that moment, Link’s rage was such that he was both ready and willing, even raring, to end Ghirahim’s life. But he preferred not to think of such things. Once Zelda was safe and whole again, the anger had left him as quickly as it came. It was the first and last time he had truly lusted for blood.  
    Instead, he remembered the times Ghirahim had spared his life. True, it was more so because Ghirahim had considered Link to be no more worrisome than an insect at the time, not worth his trouble. It wasn’t really an act of mercy at all. But nonetheless, on more than one occasion Ghirahim had been presented with the option of killing Link, and had opted not to do so. And it was in those moments that Link had first noticed Ghirahim’s beauty.  
    But, was any face beautiful enough to merit the trouble being with a man like Ghirahim would bring? Link pushed this reasonable concern to the back of his mind as he buried his face in his pillow. No, Zelda didn’t have a clue how he was feeling. All his reason warned him to stay away from this man, every instinct urged him to move closer to him, and every thought in his mind was hung up on what on Ghirahim’s life must have been like after his master died.  
    To a young man of 18 years, like Link, words like “millennia” held no meaning. He tried to wrap his mind around the eons Ghirahim had lived through, and wondered how he could have possibly occupied such an expanse of time. He wondered if demons had friends. Ghirahim had more or less told him that demons didn’t marry; did that mean they had no family? Where did they go when a day’s work was done? Or was it that their “work” was their life?  
    What was certain to Link was that now, Ghirahim was alone. He felt a weight on his chest when he recalled that he was responsible for that, and he felt a terrible sense of compassion for him. He was curious and sad, wondering when was the last time someone asked Ghirahim if was having a nice day, or bought him a gift, or invited him over for dinner. What did Ghirahim think about when he couldn’t sleep? Were there times when he couldn’t sleep? What did he do when he was bored? How did he like his coffee in the morning? Had anyone ever asked him these things?      
    Link’s mind was in hyperdrive. As usual, he didn’t notice when he fell asleep on top of his quilt, fully dressed and mind still whirling.  
  
**  
**

    SQUAWK.  
    THUMP.  
    Link blearily blinked his eyes open, wondering why the ceiling seemed so far away, and why his back ached. He reached behind his head to grab his pillow, but instead his fingers dragged on what felt like wooden planks. His memory jolted; oh yeah, a loud noise had woken him up… and now he was on the floor.  
    SQUAWK.  
    The loud noise repeated itself, now more impatient.  
    “Yeah, yeah, I hear ya…” Link grumbled, turning over and hopping to his feet. Looking up, he saw a familiar wide beak occupying his window. Behind it twinkled a pair of golden eyes flanked by glossy red feathers. His Loftwing.  
    Link stretched, wondering what could have brought the Loftwing to his room at such an hour. He eyed the bird expectantly, reaching out to pat his beak. “What’s up? Did you miss me or something?” The Loftwing cooed softly, half-closing his eyes as he enjoyed Link’s friendly touch. Then he abruptly opened his beak and spat something out, which fluttered to the floor.  
    Link’s heart skipped a beat as he snatched it up.  _Could it be…? Yes, it was!_  It was folded piece of parchment, set with a diamond shaped wax seal that left him in no doubt of who sent it.  
    Flutters rose up in his chest, and he whooped just as quietly as he could, pumping a fist in the air. “Good going, my feathery friend,” he praised the bird, who was eyeing him in amusement through the window. He chirped softly in acknowledgement, his eyes twinkling more brightly. Link reached into the well-stocked tin on his desk and tossed his Loftwing perhaps a few more biscuits than he normally would. Satisfied, the bird took off.  
    Watching him disappear into the sky, he noticed that the sky was still star-strewn, but had lightened to a dark navy color. It was only the hour just preceding dawn, yet Ghirahim had already sent the letter. He honestly had half-expected Ghirahim to not write to him at all, but to do so this hastily… was it a good sign? Or a bad one?  
    With his heart pounding, unable to bear a second’s more delay, Link hastily lit a candle on his desk and tore open the letter. He smirked at the sight of his name, crossed out and replaced with that nickname.  _Sky Child._  
    His smile quickly dropped as his eyes moved down the page, taking in Ghirahim's harsh words. Of course, he had more or less expected this… Ghirahim’s attitude toward him was sure to not be particularly amiable, yet somehow reading this stung a little. Not the snide insults, but rather the distaste Ghirahim clearly felt toward him… But no, he couldn’t expect that attitude to change after just one evening together. That was the reasonable way to think, and yet...  
    His heart leapt. _“I rather enjoyed that.”_  He read those words over again, making sure his eyes didn’t deceive him.  _“As for the kiss… I rather enjoyed that.”_  Link read it once again, and again. A chorus was singing in his chest. Eagerly, he read further down.  _“When I think of you, something strange seems to happen to me… not unpleasant, but strange.”_  
    All sensation left his legs, and he sank into a chair in utter disbelief.  _Oh my sweet Hylia,_  he thought. Ghirahim’s words echoed around in his head, the lyrics to the chorus in his heart. “So is he… interested in me, after all?” Link whispered aloud, hardly daring to believe it. “He hates me but he… likes me?”  
    Link scanned the letter once again, breathing deeply.  _Oh, I see,_  he thought,  _he’s confused. Because of our situation in the past and everything that’s happened. Well, I don’t blame him a bit for that… but it does seem like in spite of that, his attitude may be changing?_  Link felt a rush of empathy, realizing how wrongfooted Ghirahim must be feeling.  _Maybe it’s possible… things could become clearer to him if we spent more time together. I want him to see that it’s possible. Things don’t have to be like they were before, not between us or anybody else. He’s got a second chance now, but it’s gotta be hard taking advantage of that alone. Somebody has got to help him. Maybe that somebody could be me?_  
    Link at last let his eyes venture down to the last paragraph, almost afraid of what it may hold. In it he found yet another cause for rejoice. Ghirahim suggested having another date! Link didn’t ask, but Ghirahim still suggested it! A voice was cheering in his head.  _Yes! Yes! It can be me! We can get to know each other better and maybe, maybe…_  Then his voice of reason chimed in.  _Woah, buddy. Hold your horses, don’t get too far ahead of yourself with that imagination of yours. Let’s take this one step at a time. Right now, how about you just have a nice day together?_  Yes, that’s exactly what he’d do. The gears in Link’s brain were already turning, and a smile had returned to his face. A yellowish tinge appeared on the horizon as the sun began to rise. He knew exactly where he wanted to take Ghirahim for their second date.


	4. Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghirahim and Link take a stroll through the woods for their second date. It appears Link has something up his sleeve.

    Link was half-skipping, half-walking. He had long ago abandoned the cap on his sweaty head, instead twirling it about in one hand. Ghirahim found himself rather appreciating the way Link’s ashy blonde hair flashed golden where the sunlight touched it. Link was babbling on happily about something or another. Ghirahim wasn’t really paying attention to the words, but he liked the sound of Link’s voice. He let it wash over him as his thoughts drifted. He felt distinctly out of place in the forest. It’s glowing green hues, filtered sunlight, and peaceful atmosphere next to his tight suit and colorless form… Link, on the other hand, looked as if he could be a child of the forest itself. It was like him, blossoming with life, energy, and warmth.  
    “Have you... Ghirahim? Ghirahim?”  
    “Hm?” Ghirahim started, surprised to see Link had abruptly paused in front of him and was peering up at his face.  
    Link grinned slyly. “I asked if you’ve ever seen the forest during the spring, when all the trees are flowering.”  
    “Oh, hmm…” He wracked his brain. Had he ever seen that? He didn’t exactly take note of such things as flowers.  _(Except roses. You like roses.)_  
    Link’s smiled softened. “Spaced out a bit there, huh?”  
    “Err… Just a bit,” Ghirahim mumbled. Link spun on his heel and hooked his elbow around Ghirahim’s, now walking alongside him. After pausing a moment, Ghirahim relaxed his arm. He didn’t necessarily dislike this habit of Link’s, but it certainly took some getting used to. Demons weren’t known for being especially affectionate, after all.  
    “I feel like you get lost in thought a lot.”  
    A corner of Ghirahim’s mouth twitched. “I’m fairly introverted, yes.”  
    Link grinned up at him. “I never would have guessed it when I first met you, ya know. But it kinda makes sense now.”  
    Ghirahim was smiling slightly now. “You’re awfully curious about me, Link. I suppose this sort of thing is fun to you?”  
    Link looked politely confused. “What sort of thing?”  
    “Don’t play dumb, boy, you know when you…” Ghirahim started, but then paused. Looking down into Link’s face, he saw that he honestly didn’t have a clue what Ghirahim was talking about.  _Interesting. It seems socializing comes to him so naturally, he doesn’t even realize that he’s doing it. Is he like that with everybody, or just me?_  Ghirahim drew a slight breath. “Never mind,” he said shortly.  
    Link still looked slightly concerned. “O...kay. I guess.” Link let go of his arm and skipped a few paces ahead. He turned his head, grinning again. “Hey, you know something else I noticed about you?”  
    Ghirahim raised an eyebrow. “What is that?”  
    “You stopped calling me ‘sky child.’”  
    “Hmm? Oh, yes. It seems that I have.” He honestly hadn’t realized it. “That’s not a problem, I presume?”  
    “Nope, not really.” Link flashed another sunny grin at him. “Well, I guess I thought it was kinda cute.”  
    “Pardon?”  
    “But I like ‘Link’ better.”  
    Ghirahim faltered a moment, then let out a small chuckle. “My demeaning nicknames were never meant to be cute, ‘sky child.’”  _He does have an adorable side, however._  
    Link only grinned wider at him, his blue eyes sparkling. “I noticed yet another thing,  _Ghirahim_ ,” he taunted playfully.  
    Ghirahim didn’t quite realize it, but he too was smiling broadly, his darker eyes twinkling faintly. “And that would be…?”  
    “You stopped asking me to call you Lord Ghirahim. How was it you said it before? Something like you ‘prefer to be indulged with your full title.’”  
    Ghirahim frowned slightly. Yet another thing he hadn’t noticed. It had been some time since he considered himself a “Lord.” The word sat ill with him, though he couldn’t quite say why.  
    “Hm… I suppose I have,” he finally said.  
    “You were lord over these woods, right?” Link asked curiously.  
    “The Surface really… “ Ghirahim shifted slightly in discomfort, turning his eyes from Link and looking down at his gloved hands. “I suppose, in a sense,” he said slowly, “More than anything, I was lord over my own inflated ego.”  
    Link narrowed his eyes. “I mean, I guess why shouldn’t you have been? Wasn’t that your role?”  
    Ghirahim sighed. “Yes, but… well, you don’t quite understand, Link.”  
    Link’s expression intensified, but remained somehow friendly. “Make me understand, then,” he challenged. Despite the command, his tone remained level. “Go on, try me.”  
    Ghirahim considered him for a moment. Looking down into his face, he could see that Link didn’t intend to let it go. But he didn’t seem malicious, either. “Very well, then,” Ghirahim finally spoke, “Allow me to collect my thoughts.” And so he needed to. After all, there was much to be said. They walked a few seconds in silence.  
    Ghirahim stared at the matted grassy path beneath their feet, then looked up at the canopy above them. “Where to begin…” he wondered aloud. He looked back down at Link, who had been waiting patiently all the while. “Link, as your people often allude to in the ancient tales, there is a world beneath the Surface. A land of demons and desolation. I was born there, the spirit of a sword with a single purpose. I was meant to sit in palm of the king among my people.” He paused.  
    “Go on,” Link encouraged quietly. “This world,” he asked, “What was it like?”  
    “Hmm… it is difficult to describe in a way comprehensible to one from your world,” Ghirahim considered, “I suppose you can most succinctly call it a world of nothing. Nothing is born there, and nothing dies. There is only creation and destruction.”  
    “Don’t they come down to same thing though?” Link questioned. Ghirahim could see in his eyes that he was a little perplexed.  
    “Not quite. To be born and to die implies the presence of a family, a whole system meant to perpetuate this cycle. I’ve seen among you humans, this system naturally spawns such things as bonds, friendships, and kinships. Many things unknown to my people exist here, few of which I understand. But that aside, the closest thing we have to your idea of ‘family’ is one’s master, the being who created us. Keep in mind, only a select few have the ability to spawn new demons. However, possessing it makes one the undisputed ruler among all demons.”  
    “Demise?” Link questioned.  
    “Precisely,” Ghirahim confirmed, “As for Demise himself, no one can seem to say exactly where he came from. But indeed, he created me. And if I might add, he took particular care in my creation compared to some of his lower minions.”  
    “So he’s like your father?”  
    “Not quite. Human fathers tend to have children for their own sake, or produce them accidentally as a result of other passions. Demon children are created with a specific purpose in mind. Tools, indeed, for the master who created us. And that is the highest law which we obey, that of fulfilling the wish of our master.”  
    “Sounds like you’re given precious little room to just be yourself,” Link commented.  
    Ghirahim chuckled wryly. “You’ve no idea how true those words are, Link,” he said, “From the moment of our creation, demons possess nothing. Anything we come to possess, it must be taken from elsewhere. Everything in our world belongs to Demise. Indeed, I was considered quite lucky to be granted ownership over a specimen like this Surface world. That doing so happened to coincide with my Master’s plans, well, that was an unheard of stroke of luck.”  
    “So basically, you had nothing but your master,” Link summarized, “And for anything to become your own, you had to seize it.”  
    “Correct. And… well, what a bother. It seems I became so caught up in explaining all this, I forgot what my original point was.”  
    Link chuckled, then supplied, “You were explaining why you were only lord over your own ego.”  
    “Ah, yes,” Ghirahim acknowledged, “Simply put, I was in no sense a true master of this place which I claimed as my own. My power over it was made possible only by my ability to wreak destruction if need be, and for that ability I praised myself. But it was all… for Demise.”  
    Ghirahim paused for a moment, his face dropping. “But I see now that, as before, I cannot truly take anything for my own. So, as it always has been, and always will be, I have nothing.”  
    Link was silent as he walked beside Ghirahim. For several minutes they continued as such, and Ghirahim became uneasy. Peering at Link, he could see that he was staring pensively at the ground as they walked.  _What could he possibly be thinking about?_  
    Suddenly Link lifted his gaze, and his head snapped up. “Oh, hold on!” he exclaimed cheerily, “I see something I’ve been looking for. Ghirahim, if you will, take this bottle and unstopper it.” And indeed he took an empty glass bottle out of his pouch and handed it to a slightly bewildered Ghirahim.  
    “What are you going on about now?” Ghirahim questioned him, nonetheless unsealing the bottle as instructed.  
    “Oh come on, don’t you see it?” Link replied, gesturing off to his right. All Ghirahim saw there was a large mushroom, nothing out of the ordinary.  
    “Uh… the mushroom?”  
    “Yes!” Link cried happily. “The mushroom! It’s glittering!” Taking a second look, Ghirahim saw that it did indeed have a golden sparkle. “Watch yourself, I’m gonna draw my sword,” Link warned, walking towards the mushroom, which was as tall as his waist, and unsheathing his blade. Ghirahim noticed it was not the Master Sword, but a standard knight’s broadsword.  
    “What do you plan to do, Link? Attack it?” Ghirahim asked in amusement, following behind Link.  
    Link looked over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. “No, silly, I’m gonna give it a good whack to get the spores out. When I do, swing that bottle through the air and the spores will go in. They’re dead useful and not too common, you know. Alright, on the count of three. 1… 2… 3!!” And Link brought the flat side of his blade down on the mushroom, which instantly released a thick cloud of mesmerizing golden dust. “C’mon, Ghirahim, swing the bottle!”  
    “Uh, right,” Ghirahim snapped himself into focus, and swung the bottle through the air. Instantly, as if sucked in by magic, the golden cloud filled the jar. Ghirahim hastily corked the bottle, which was now filled to the brim with the sparkling powder. Link took it and held it up in triumph.  
    “Excellent,” Link murmured. His expression was almost devilish. “I was worried I wouldn’t be able to find any.” He stowed the bottle back in his pouch, his face relaxing yet again into his usual dopey smile. He turned on his heel, facing Ghirahim. “Well, we’re almost where we’re gonna go today.”  
    “What, this  _thrilling_  forest stroll wasn’t the true date?” Ghirahim asked, grinning sarcastically.  
    Link grinned back, eyes twinkling. “It kind of was, in a sense. But we have one big, final destination. Before we get there, I need you to do something for me.”  
    “What, besides swiping a load of magic spores?”  
    Link chuckled. “C’mon, Ghirahim, I’m actually trying to be serious here. It’s about the ownership and egotism thing.” Ghirahim’s face dropped a little. “I need you to open your arms.”  
    “What?”  
    “Open your arms, like you’re about to hug someone.”  
    “I don’t hug.”  
    “Then like you’re about to skydive.”  
    “I don’t do that either.”  
    “Just open your arms already.”  
    “Oh, fine.” Ghirahim begrudgingly spread his arms wide, eyeing Link apprehensively. He didn’t like being in such a vulnerable stance.  
    “Great, that’s it. Now, close your eyes. Just feel the wind on your body.”  
    Still wondering what Link was going on about, Ghirahim did just that. Closing his eyes, he did indeed feel conscious of every square inch of contact the pleasant breeze made with him. Something about such awareness was bizarrely relaxing. He felt less wary.  
    “Right… now take a deep, deep breath.”  
    Ghirahim did so. And as the wind filled him, he felt his blood pressure drop. Everything felt… nice? He opened his eyes slowly to see Link smirking at him in satisfaction.  
    “Well,” Ghirahim said after a moment of staring, “That was pleasant, but what does that have to do with my ego?”  
    “You see, Ghirahim, after that breath,” Link paused, fixing Ghirahim with a mischievous gaze. “You are now… officially as full of air as I am.”  
    “What?!”  
    Link burst into laughter, doubling over as Ghirahim stood before him, incredulous.  
    “You’ve made a fool of me!” Ghirahim burst out angrily.  
    Link, still merrily chortling, caught his breath for a moment. “And you walked right into it! But that’s not what I really wanted to say.”  
    “Oh really?” Ghirahim replied huffily.  
    Link’s expression suddenly became serious. “Really.” Link took a step closer, and rest a hand on Ghirahim’s shoulder, looking him dead in the eye. “What I really wanted to say is… Look, you said you having nothing. Because you don’t own anything, and because you can’t take anything. Well, I think that’s a load of hot air, thinking you’re resigned to be that way. Why, if you can neither inherit nor seize anything, then obviously you must create something.”  
    “Create something?” Ghirahim repeated skeptically.  
    Link nodded solemnly. “Create something. Seize life with your own hands and build something for yourself. Do something no one else can do. Make something nobody can draw or see, and call it your life. Build your own world, and share it with… share it with someone. That’s what being a human is about.”  
    “I…” Ghirahim began, but faltered. Link was leaning up towards him again, too close again. He closed his eyes… and felt something soft and moist touch his cheek. He opened his eyes to see Link gazing back up at him, his eyes round.  
    “Ghirahim,” Link asked softly, “Did you feel anything?”  
    Ghirahim started. Of course he felt something, that warmth, again. But to share that information, with Link of all people?  
    “I… yes,” Ghirahim whispered, then added as he brought a hand to his chest, “yes, right here.”  
    Link nodded, his eyes seeming to shine. “Yeah. That’s what I mean. I created something for myself, and then shared it with you. That’s exactly what I mean.  
     Link looked over his shoulder, turning away from Ghirahim. “Look yonder down the path.”  
    Ghirahim peered over Link’s shoulder. In the distance, through the trees, he could make out a towering gray structure. “The Temple of Hylia,” he whispered, just a note of fear in his voice.  
    “Or the Sealed Temple, however you may call it,” Link affirmed. He continued, “Ghirahim, I want to help you. You said you want to understand humans, to live among us. That means you’re ready to create. Like I said. It’s time for the dawn of your new life, and I just know… I know… it needs to begin in that temple. That’s why I wanted to take you there today.” Link removed his hand from Ghirahim’s shoulder, reaching down and grabbing his hand instead. He looked up in earnest and asked simply, “So, will you come with me?”  
     _My goodness, this boy… is something else altogether. Extraordinary, even. Was I angry at him a few moments ago? I don’t quite remember. But he wants me to go into Hylia’s temple. Why? What is he…?_  Ghirahim fixed his gaze, his eyes boring into Link’s. Once again, deep blue, honest, warm. “I… okay,” Ghirahim finally spoke, “But I have one question.”  
    “Ask away.”  
    “Why are you bothering with all this? With me?"  
    Link furrowed his brow for a split second, as if he didn’t immediately understand the question. He took a deep breath and considered for a moment before speaking. “Isn’t it obvious?” Link finally said. “It’s because I care. Now come on, let’s go.”      
     _Of all the incomprehensible human specimens I’ve come across, Link may be the most bewildering of them all._  
    Their pace was steady as they approached the Sealed Temple. Link’s expression was set, even resolute. It briefly occurred to Ghirahim that from the outside this would look like some silly antic, but somehow he felt that something serious was looming ahead, or something at least serious to Link. That thought in mind, he pushed his unease to the back of his mind and bit back the questions on his tongue. It was clear that Link had a plan in mind, and he felt he should wait for Link to reveal this plan in due time. More than anything, he felt that whatever they were going to do meant just as much to Link as it would mean to him, and he didn’t want to trample on that.  
    The temple emanated both power and peace, decay and prosperity, and now made whole again that effect was amplified. The Statue of the Goddess loomed high above them as they ascended the short steps to the altar. She gazed benignly down at them through her blank stone eyes, as if she had been waiting.  
    “Hold on,” Link murmured. In such places of power, one often feels compelled to speak softly. “I gotta go get Fi.” And so he hurried off towards the back chamber, where Ghirahim knew the Master Sword had been laid to rest.  
    Ghirahim’s eyes traveled up the stone robes to the face of Hylia. In the past, her face inspired in him hatred, rage, or some mixture of the two. Now, he felt fear, apprehension, pure uneasiness. He felt like a child, caught in some act of wrongdoing, brought before an adult to beg pardon or receive punishment. But the Goddess was not menacing. Her smile was knowing and ancient, but gentle. She held no more malice toward him than a grandmother toward her grandchildren.  
    He heard Link’s steps behind him, and turned. The Master Sword was in Link’s hand, unsheathed, magnificent as ever. The slumber of its spirit had done nothing to dull its splendor.  
    Link spoke. “Okay, so first we have to make an offering.”  
    “Of anything in particular?”  
    “Not really. Hylia cares more about the gesture than anything. But I was thinking for this occasion…” He drew an vivid red apple out of his pouch. “The standard, fruits of Hylia’s prosperity. And then...” He pulled out a vivid fuschia flower with a honey-colored center. “An ancient flower, something from the deep past that has come to a new future. And finally…” He took out the bottle of glittering spores. “A touch of the strange and unexpected, the magic of creation and recreation.” He placed the three items on the wide stone offering plate.  
    “You really thought about this, huh?”  
    “Honestly it just kinda came to me. Well, not that it’s super complicated. I just… You know in Skyloft we use prayer to guide us when confronted with uncertainty. What I want to do today is ask Hylia to bless your new life.”  
    “I… A new life with the Goddess’ blessing, huh? Do you truly believe she’d bless a… rather, someone like me? I was created to serve her archenemy.”  
    “Yes, I believe she will,” Link said firmly. “The fact that you’re alive at all right now… that’s gotta mean she had more in store for you in the first place.”  
    Ghirahim was taken aback. He hadn’t considered things from that angle. “Hmm… well, Link, what shall we do, then?”  
    “Just follow my lead.” Link gripped the hilt of the Master Sword firmly, and rest it point down in front of the offering plate. He went down on one knee and bowed his head. The kneel of a knight. “Kneel down with me, and put your hands over mine.”  
    Ghirahim awkwardly bent down. It wasn’t a pose he was accustomed to.  
    “One knee. It’s a little uncomfortable, but I think it should be this way,” Link gently urged.  
    “Right.” Ghirahim bit his lower lip and complied. He lightly gripped Link’s hands. It felt somehow reassuring.  
     _Here we kneel, side by side, hands on the hilt of the holy blade before the Statue of the Goddess._  
    “Okay, now bow your head. I’m just going to say a prayer.”  
    The world went dark as Ghirahim closed his eyes. He tried focusing on the feel of Link’s hands, their warmth calming him. He heard Link begin in a voice that lacked a drop of grandeur. It was simple, genuine, and entreating, like a student come to a wise professor, or a young adult seeking the guidance of a mother.  
    “Hylia, I’ve brought Ghirahim with me here today. And some offerings as well, just as a thanks and a symbol for what you probably know I- what we’ve- come to ask. Ghirahim here stood against you for a long time, but I’m sure you’ve seen, as I’ve known I’ve seen, some change coming to him.”  
     _Have I really… changed?_  
    “There’s so many opportunities in front of him, and just talking to him I can tell… I can tell he just wants to live. Don’t you see it, Hylia? He’s learning about friendship, caring, and… love. But without your blessing, he may never truly grasp those things. Doesn’t he deserve a second chance? Can’t he become more than what he was originally created as?”  
    Link took a deep breath. “I… I want to stand by him. I must be honest, Hylia, he’s enraptured me. I simply… when I think of him, I… well, I lose it.”  
    Ghirahim’s eyes snapped open and he looked at the praying boy in shock.  _He truly, honestly thinks that way about me? Enough to declare it to Hylia herself?_  
    “I just want to spend more time with him.” Link continued. Ghirahim remembered that they were indeed praying, and hastily shut his eyes. “And more than anything, I want to support him while he makes a new life for himself. That’s what we’re really here about, Hylia. Ghirahim wants to learn how to live, how to be with people, how to mean something… Right?”  
    “More than anything,” Ghirahim responded, breathless.  
    “Yeah, you heard him. So we ask you, Hylia. Please bless him. Bless Ghirahim with the same peace and prosperity promised to all of us. Watch over him as his new life begins. Bless him, and let him find meaning for himself.”  
    Link opened his eyes. “Alright, that’s it,” he said, likewise rousing Ghirahim.  
    Ghirahim turned his head and stared at the boy next to him. He saw that those clear blue eyes were slightly moist, and he knew, simple as the prayer was, it had filled Link’s heart the same way it had filled his.  
    “Link,” he spoke softly, “I truly… I… I really am not sure what to say.”  
    “It’s okay,” Link reassured him with a small smile, “You don’t have to say anything. I just- wait a second. What’s that?”  
    Ghirahim followed Link’s gaze and saw above them a small sphere of light forming above the Goddess’ folded hands. His eyes widened in fear. “She’s responded,” he stated simply.  
    “Gracious, really?” Link asked in amazement. “I’ve never seen anything like this.” The golden sphere had taken shape, and was drifting lazily downward toward them.  
    Ghirahim leapt to his feet, his expression one of utter panic. His first instinct was to transform, to fight. But again, his memory blacked. He could not take on his old form if he could not recall it. He turned to Link, his eyes begging for help.  
    Link took his arm. “Hold on, Ghirahim,” Link said, his eyes fixed on the light floating toward them, “This could be a gift. There’s no need to be afraid.”  
    “No need to be afraid?!” Ghirahim burst out, his voice unnaturally high. “That is the magic of Hylia! One touch, and a demon like myself… I’ll die instantly!” Now it was Link’s turn to panic, his gaze snapping toward Ghirahim with eyes round as saucers.  
    “Really? Are you absolutely sure?”  
    “Yes! Now, could you take your sword or something and-”  
    He never got to finish his statement. The light suddenly glowed white-hot and zoomed around them in a wide curve. It hurtled straight into Ghirahim’s chest.  
    “Ghirahim?! GHIRAHIM!!”  
    Ghirahim’s mind went fuzzy, and he felt himself fall. He felt Link’s arms catch him, yet he continued to fall.  
    “ _GHIRAHIM!!!_  GHIRAHIM… Ghirahim…”  
    Link’s frantic cries faded. A bizarre combination, a homogeneous mixture of light and darkness was engulfing him.  
    And his mind ceased.


	5. Rise

    Then his mind woke, and it was falling. Or at least he supposed it was falling, but it didn’t seem to be taking his body with it, nor was he sure that the direction he was moving in was down.  
    He couldn’t tell if he had stopped moving or not. The air(?) around him had taken an odd quality. Neither light nor dark, it was rather like visions one sees when they close their eyelids in a well-lit room. Light, only filtered and veiled…  
     _Ghirahim._  
    He tried to look at his hands, but realized he could not seem to move his head. He looked down with just his eyes. There was nothing there but more of that rippling chiaroscuro. It wasn’t that he couldn’t move his head, he didn’t have one.  
     _Ghirahim, it’s me. Please settle down._  
    Settle down? How could he do so when he had nothing to settle? And whose was that voice anyway?  
     _Ghirahim._  
    The Voice was golden; it could be described in no other way. Like pure gold spun into sound. Suddenly it struck him that he had heard the voice once before. Yes, it was the same voice that guided him when his soul was first ripped from the sword.  
     _Ah, so you do remember me. Excellent, that will simplify things greatly._  
    There’s hardly anything simple about floating in a void without a body to control. Why have you brought me here again?  
    _You called on me once again, did you not? If you want something from somebody, it’s usually polite to come see them in person._  
    What?  
     _We have much to talk about Ghirahim. Now, if you’d kindly sit down._  
    Sit down? Where? How?  
    Then he looked, and there was a table. A featureless white table for two. Upon closer inspection, the table wasn’t quite featureless. A shiny red apple. An ancient flower. A glittering jar of gold powder. And behind the desk, sitting in a comfortable armchair, was a woman.  
    “You!” Ghirahim gasped aloud. It seemed he had recovered the ability to speak. Indeed, he was also able to tell up from down now, and his feet were on something solid, which of course must mean he had feet and a body attached.  
    In the time it took him to register all this, the woman had been smiling broadly, surveying him over folded hands with a twinkle in her bright blue eyes. “Yes, my dear, it’s me,” she said cheerily. “Wonderful to see you.”  
    Ghirahim glared at her. She was exactly as he remembered. Pure splendor, from her simple white garb to her lengthy yellow tresses, and a face he had recently come to associate with the accursed spirit maiden. A beaded circlet adorned her head, and her face was flanked by two forelocks wrapped in blue ribbon. Then there was that faint glow about her, as if her body itself emitted light. Simply put, she was beautiful.  
    Ghirahim gritted his teeth. He couldn’t tell if he was angry or frightened, and the idea of being frightened by the woman only incensed him further. Yet her smile remained infuriatingly benign, as if Ghirahim were a long awaited guest rather than the servant of her sworn enemy. Very well. If she wished to remain civil, he too would maintain his composure, difficult as that had become lately.  
    “Zelda,” he asked shortly, his white lips curling into a sinister smile, “or Hylia?”  
    “Why, yes!” she replied happily. “Now please, have a seat.” Another armchair appeared, opposite the table from the woman. Reluctantly, Ghirahim sank down in it, and folded his hands in his lap, determined and poise.  
    “Wonderful,” she hummed, “Gracious me, child, what trouble you’ve caused. I’m rather happy you’ve come to see me.”  
    Ghirahim’s lip twitched. “Forgive me, Your Grace, but I thought you had long since renounced this post.”  
    “Hardly,” she replied, her expression sobering somewhat, “I could never abandon this land or its people. I think you’ve found my powers very much intact, however much my body may have changed.”  
    “On the contrary, Your Grace,” Ghirahim replied softly, “The girl now holding your power can barely grasp a fraction of it. It’s a pity, and a shame, to see such majesty reduced to this base form.”  
    The woman simply stared, patient.  
    Seeing she wouldn’t reply, Ghirahim continued. “Your power was Providence, the gift of Time itself lay in your hands. Whole worlds formed and faded at your fingertips. What are you now?” He grinned unpleasantly. “A mortal insect, crawling the surface of a world that was once yours.”  
    She sighed, almost as if rather bored. “My, my, Ghirahim,” she replied coolly, “how low we have both stooped. Such pettiness hardly becomes you.”  
    Ghirahim flinched slightly.  
    “I’ve hardly the time to exchange mockeries. Perhaps you’ve noticed, your prayers aren’t the only ones I have to answer. Let me satisfy you with your own words.  _My body may have changed, but my essence remains intact._ ”  
    Now it was Ghirahim’s turn to stare. The Goddess sighed again.  
    “You truly have changed, Ghirahim. These days I barely recognize you.”  
    “Changed, have I?” Ghirahim echoed, questioningly. Inclined as he was to be angry, he was also intrigued. Perhaps it wasn’t a figment of Link’s imagination after all.  
    “Very,” she confirmed. “You used to be so colorful. Reassured, confident, brimming with passion.  _‘Such beauty! Such physique! I’ve pretty much got it all!’_  and all that jazz. Yes, once upon a time, you loved being Ghirahim. You were so comfortable in your own skin, such biting words never needed to pass your lips for you to know that you’re on top.”  
    “I…” Ghirahim paused to consider. It was true. He doubted himself now where he had never done so before. He had always held a tender spot for beauty, the pristine, and the perfect, and that naturally included himself. And though he had never liked the Goddess, he had always respected her. Not just for what she could do, but also for who she was. Likewise, there was the world of the Surface, the perfect creation of a perfect being. Out of sheer respect, Ghirahim could not and would destroy it even after becoming its Lord. It only seemed fitting, after all, for a perfect being such as himself to be surrounded by perfection. It was perhaps out of this same sentiment that he had not destroyed Link upon their first meeting or thereafter…  
    “Yet lately,” the Goddess interrupted his thoughts, “The sight of beauty only reminds you of your own incompetencies, am I correct?”  
    Ghirahim was startled out of his thoughts. “Why you little-” he began angrily.  
    “I am right!” Hylia exclaimed loudly, standing to her feet and pointed a single white finger at Ghirahim, “And you, you are in mourning!”  
    “Mourning?” Ghirahim answered in equal volume, also rising to his feet. “Of course not! Why you meddling Goddess, I am furious! Outraged! Positively sick with anger! But sadness does not fit into that equation, unfortunately for you.”  
    “Agh, sadness!” Hylia repeated, throwing her hands up. “Who said anything about sadness? I said mourning, my dear, and that is something entirely different.”  
    “It still does not apply!”  
    “Sadness,” she continued as if she hadn’t heard him, pacing up and down, “Comes from when your evening plans are canceled, or you read a story with an unpleasant ending. Mourning, on the other hand, is the sensation that a part of yourself has died, and the entire structure of your existence has come crumbling down. On that note, you also are lost, confused, and overall a basket case of misdirected rage. Yes, you are mourning for Demise and utterly wasting the time I gave you because of it.”  
    “Yes!” Ghirahim burst out angrily, his voice rising an octave, “My, what insight! Such intuition! Who would have guessed it, except the bitch who sent her lap dog to destroy my Master in the first place?!”  
    “Ah,” Hylia cried softly, rounding on him and fixing him with a sharp gaze. “So you do blame Link, after all?”  
    “Of course I-” Ghirahim began, then he choked. He could see those eyes in his vision. Those deep blue, clear, honest eyes, sparkling with hope and innocence. He remembered lips against his, that softness, and the rush it made him feel. Strolling side by side with Link, and the concern Link had shown for him. In his own harebrained way, Link showed that he cared. “I… no,” Ghirahim said finally, “No, I don’t.”  
    The Goddess smiled slightly, then returned to her chair. Ghirahim likewise sat down. “No, of course you don’t,” she said, her tone now level again, “But then who do you blame, Ghirahim? If not Link or myself, what have you to be angry at?”  
    Ghirahim huffed.  _My, she is persistent._  “Very well, Your Grace. If you must insist, I will indulge you,” he replied, still somewhat agitated. He inhaled, then exhaled, bringing a finger to his chin. Really, why must he tell this to the Goddess, of all people? Link had been quite enough. Nonetheless, he began to speak. “You said it quite well yourself. I was Lord Ghirahim,” he began icily, clearly intending to monologue. “I was at the top, the very pinnacle of existence, besides my Master of course. I was perfection embodied, a deadly beauty, poetry in motion, true art brought to life. Yes, perhaps a bit oleaginous, and certainly conceited, but I had a right to be. The destructive symphony Demise would wrought… if he was the composer, I could only be the conductor. The taking of innocent lives, the chaotic scorching of land, such artless acts were well below me. Perhaps you noted, Your Grace, I never sought to spill blood outside what was necessary to fulfill my duties. I could well have ripped the sky and earth asunder, were I some common beast without a mind, but I never did take more than what was necessary for my duties. You see, my role as a sword gave me a sense of  _honor_. It set me apart from your average Bokoblin, who could not understand the beauty of partaking in the formation of a new world order.”  
    “Mhmm,” the Goddess acknowledged, “You were special.”  
    “I  _failed_ ,” Ghirahim spat angrily. “Completely and utterly  _failed_. I had one job, one purpose, one duty. I had all the tools I could possibly need and more. Yet somehow, in spite all my best efforts, I was thwarted. And what am I left with, now? What does my honor mean? The Lord Ghirahim is dead, yet  _you_  insist on keeping this ghost of what I once was around. How does it get you off, toying with my soul like this?” His voice rose. “I hardly know which infuriates me more, that I failed at my one purpose in life, or taking a second chance from my Master’s enemies. You think you’re helping me? You’re insulting me, torturing me.”  
    “You didn’t seem to think so,” Hylia retorted, “When it was Link leading you to my temple. Why, you were perfectly willing to play along then.”  
    “I-” Ghirahim choked again. That hadn’t even occurred to him. Sitting and talking with Link had indeed felt very different from talking to the woman across from him now.  
    “Could it be,” Hylia spoke softly, leaning across the table, “You’ve traded all your ambition, your desire for beauty… and found it sated in a pair of blue eyes and pink lips?”  
    Ghirahim stared in shock.  
    “It’s amazing,” she continued, a slight smile of satisfaction crossing her lips, “The power one sweet boy can hold.”  
    After a moment of stunned silence, Ghirahim finally whispered, “Was that your plan? Use your little hero to turn my head, and take me under your control?”      
    “Oh, heavens no!” Hylia laughed, “Of course, I did see it coming miles away.” She grinned at him mischievously. “Did you really never notice the way he looked at you with those… puppy dog eyes?”  
    Ghirahim felt his cheeks flush.  
    Hylia giggled, a strangely girlish sound coming from the great goddess. Her eyes sparkled as she surveyed the blushing man. “I do mean it though. Link’s feelings for you are utterly genuine. I’m no love goddess; I couldn’t make him feel that way even if I wouldn’t find forcing such emotions reprehensible. No, Ghirahim, Link cares for you simply because you’re you. Rather than deny it, why not just be thankful for it?”  
    Ghirahim looked down at his hands. So, it was true. There had still been suspicions gnawing the back of his mind, even as he has opened up to Link earlier, that perhaps the boy was playing a game with him. That there was some sort of plot afoot, perhaps, or that Link was having a youthful lark of some sort. Looking for thrills, with no genuine feelings attached. Of course, that’s what he had told himself, but he could hear the truth in Hylia’s voice and was forced to reckon with what he had known all along. Link truly cared. “This is madness, though,” he muttered.  
    “Oh certainly, it’s absolute bonkers,” Hylia agreed, “But it’s  _good_  bonkers.”  
    “You’re sure about this?” Ghirahim asked quietly. He could hardly believe what he was saying. “After all, however you spin it, I am a demon and he is a hero.”  
    “Well I’m the goddess,” Hylia retorted, “and I’m telling you that you have my blessing. You asked for it, right?”  
    “What?” Ghirahim asked, taken aback. Since he had arrived in Hylia’s realm, he had expected a test of some sort. A trial, an interrogation, some act of restitution for his past deeds. But apparently Hylia had no such intentions? He could hardly believe it, but for one reason or another she apparently didn’t deem proof of his new affiliations necessary. Unless she already had proof?  
    “My blessing,” Hylia repeated, a smile curving her lips, “You may have it. Spending time with Link will do a world of good for the both of you. All I ask is that you take care of him.”  
    Ghirahim blinked rapidly.  
    Hylia smirked. “Why so shocked?” she asked.  
    “That was very sudden,” Ghirahim stated blandly. “And not at all what I expected.” He paused. “How do you know I won’t turn on your blessing? I’m a demon, after all. Deceit and destruction are in my blood.”  
    Much to his surprise, Hylia actually snorted. “Baubles and biscuits, Ghirahim. It’s more than evident to me, you don’t want those things anymore. Why, you’re hardly a demon anymore. I made quite sure to sever the sword totally and completely from your soul. You will never remember that form because it is no longer a part of you.” She locked eyes with Ghirahim, her stare intense and her tone somewhat harsh. “Give up on it. What is lost is lost, and you cannot allow a longing for what can never be retrieved to distract you from what you have now.”  
    “Never?” Ghirahim repeated softly. He felt his eyes dampen, and quickly looked down in shame. That was it. He couldn’t go back. He hadn’t even realized part of him had been hoping for it until it was confirmed that it was impossible. Hylia, she had done this to him, and he wasn’t sure whether to feel angry or not. It was the sensible thing, and yet, the way she made it sound, the sword was only an accessory to his true form in the first place. Was it possible that because of her actions, he could now become more of himself than he ever was?  
    Hylia had not missed the hurt in his expression. Her face softened, and now she spoke kindly. “All you really want is a reason to live, don’t you? Well, you’re well on your way to finding that. Especially with Link hanging around, you’ll do just fine.”  
    Ghirahim looked back up and stared at her. How could it be just fine? This was too much to work through, even with Link to help him. Hell, lately it felt like Link only complicated things.  
    Hylia sighed, then leaned forward on the table. “Listen, Ghirahim, I’ll let you in on a little secret.”  
    He raised an eyebrow.  
    “Link is very important to me. I’ve known him for eons, and… I loved his predecessor.”  
    “What?” Ghirahim was astounded. Then that astonishment turned to fear, his mind rushing and all other thoughts being pushed out of his mind in lieu of a new concern. “Do you mean to tell me, after all you said, Link and Zelda-”  
    “No,” she cut him off firmly, “That’s not at all what I’m saying.”  
    Ghirahim promptly shut up, intent on listening.  
    “Listen, no matter what powers she inherited, Zelda is not me. No other incarnation after her will be me. Likewise, no matter how much your Link reminds me of the man I knew, he is simply not my Link.” Her expression turned very serious. “My Link is gone, and he will not come back. Reincarnations will only bring back the hero, but they cannot bring back the person. That is final.”  
    She paused, a shadow of regret passing over her face, then continued. “What I meant to tell you is simply this. I know the power that love can hold. It brings even goddesses to the ground. Love for a person, for a land, for a family and friends, it gives us goals, and motivation. You’re learning that. Perhaps you already knew it, or you wouldn’t have set out to learn that very lesson. I have faith in you to continue learning.”  
    She looked off to her side, almost wistful for a split second, before turning back to Ghirahim. “There’s something I’d like you to do for you. It’s your choice whether to accept my request.”  
    Ghirahim paused, thinking. Or rather, he tried to, but all he could really find in his head was incredulity. The sheer impossibleness of it all, the lack of resolution on his own conflicting emotions, yet the possibility of hope… he would need time to process it. Quite a bit of time. But for now, perhaps the wisest course of action would be to simply go along with the goddess. He looked at her strangely now, suddenly realizing perhaps there would come a time where he didn’t greet her as a foe. Ghirahim sighed in resignation. “What is it you’d like me to do?”  
    Hylia smiled, evidently quite pleased. She reached into the large sleeve of her dress, pulling out a sort of green pendant on a gold chain. The glowing green sphere held a familiar crest of two crescents stacked against a small circle. “I’d like you to take this,” Hylia said, handing the charm to Ghirahim. “It’s called the Pendant of Courage.”  
    “What is it, precisely?” he asked, accepting it in a single gloved hand and examining it curiously. “What should I do with it?”  
    “Take it back with you to the Surface, obviously,” she explained, “And place it within the Temple of Hylia. The room where I slept should do nicely. There, you must guard it as the Lord of the Forest.”  
    Now it was time to be incredulous again. He looked up at her in disbelief, clearly waiting for her to say “Just kidding!” or some such thing. “Lord of the Forest?” Ghirahim asked, when Hylia’s expression remained serious. “This is a job offer, I suppose?”  
    Hylia grinned. “If you choose to view it as such,” she replied, “That pendant, when combined with two others, holds many magical properties. Their power can protect the people of the Surface. Though Demise is gone, there may well be others like him to come…”  
    “And until then,” Ghirahim added, quickly understanding what she meant for him to do, “You need a capable being to keep it safe.”  
    “Precisely,” Hylia nodded. “So, will you accept my offer? Will you take up the duties of the Lord of the Forest, as well as receive my blessing?”  
    Ghirahim stared into the green sphere, pondering. It was a very sudden arrangement, to be sure, and half his mind wanted to refuse out of resentment. But the other half saw another vision. A Ghirahim with a new life, a new goal… and by his side, Link. To be quite honest, hardly a better opportunity could have come to him. It was almost as if this were meant to happen from the beginning.  
    “Goddess Hylia,” he finally spoke, looking up at the golden-haired woman. He could see the apprehension in her eyes, and it somehow made him smile. “Absurd as it may seem, I must accept your offer,” he finally confirmed.  
    Hylia’s face split open in a radiant smile. “Oh, excellent Ghirahim!” She cried, and before Ghirahim knew it she had dashed around the table and thrown her arms around him in a joyful hug. “Gracious, I am so happy! Link is going to be just thrilled, just you wait.”  
    He clumsily pat her back a little, quite frazzled. “Err, certainly,” he mumbled into her shoulder.  
    She let go finally, standing up and beaming down at him. “Which reminds me! You should show that pendant to Bucha, the Kikwi elder. If you do, he’ll clear out a plot of land and probably even build you a house.” She giggled. “You can even invite Link to stay with you!”  
    Ghirahim could hardly help but grin at her. Really, the imagination of these beings was far beyond him. “I believe Link and I will take things nice and slow, Your Grace,” he said.  
    She smiled at him. “Of course, of course,” she acknowledged as she waved her hand, gesturing for him to stand. “Now, I think it’s about time you head back, my dear. Link is quite worried about you.”  
    “Oh, crap,” Ghirahim said, suddenly realizing what a state he must have left Link in. “Yes, I should hurry back immediately.” He paused, taking in what he would be going back to. A new life, a new role, and Link… He still wasn’t sure how he felt about it, but the woman in front of him was responsible for an opportunity that could indeed turn out very well for him, much as he still felt he were being puppeted around. He felt as if he should say something to her. He opened his mouth awkwardly, “Umm, Your Grace. Hylia, I…”  
    Hylia rest a hand on his shoulder, looking in his eyes. “It’s okay, Ghirahim. You don’t need to say anything. Just… go on and be happy, okay? I’ll be watching over you.”  
    Ghirahim swallowed, then nodded, a smile crossing his face. “Consider it done,” he said, something of his old confidence returning to his voice.  
    “That’s what I like to hear,” Hylia replied with a smile. Suddenly the table and chairs were gone, and Ghirahim’s vision was being clouded over by the light and dark. “See you later, Ghirahim,” Hylia’s voice called behind him as he fell through the void once more.  
    He was going home.  
  
    When he awoke, the first thing he was aware of was that his hair and face were soaked.  _Damn, my makeup is going to be a disaster,_  he thought blearily. Then he heard a voice calling over him, and realized he was being shook in a pair of strong arms.  
    “Ghirahim! Ghirahim! Oh Hylia, please wake up… Come on, just wake up!”  
    Then a very familiar pair of lips was being pressed against his, and his eyes snapped open. “L-link, you i-di-ot!” he coughed and sputtered, his heart racing. He was certainly awake now, pushing Link off of him.  
    “Ghirahim?” Link cried, frantic, “Are you awake?”  
    “Yes, I’m awake, you imbecile,” Ghirahim answered testily, shaking himself, “And what in heaven’s name were you doing?”  
    “Trying to wake you up!” Link answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “I already tried the water and you still didn’t come to! You still had a pulse but you just wouldn’t wake up and good Hylia Ghirahim I was so scared and…”  
    Ghirahim finally looked up at Link’s face. He was pale as a ghost, and his blue eyes were wide as saucers as he rattled on. Ghirahim’s heart softened in spite of himself at the sight of the man’s frantic concern.  _“Link’s feelings for you are utterly genuine… he cares for you simply because you’re you.”_  
    All of his conversation with Hylia came rushing back to him. For a moment he worried that it had been all a dream, that he had not received her blessing after all. Then, looking in his hands he saw a glowing green orb attached to a gold chain. He nearly sighed aloud in relief, and in an instant his mind became crystal clear. He knew what he had to do, for his duties began now.  
    “Link!” he barked, interrupting the blond’s incomprehensible rambling. Link miraculously ceased talking, eyeing Ghirahim with round eyes.  
    “I’ve just had a meeting with the Goddess, and I need to tell you a few things,” Ghirahim said firmly, his composure returning to him.  
    “You what?!” Link exclaimed. He glanced down at the green sphere in Ghirahim’s hand. “And where did that come from?” he inquired.  
    “It’s a gift. As I said, Hylia and I had quite the chat. I’ll explain the details later,” Ghirahim replied, assuming a tone of command. My, it had been so long since he had heard himself talk as such, like man who knew exactly what he wanted, what he needed, and how to go about obtaining it. “Here’s the gist of our conversation.”  
    “I’m listening,” Link affirmed. He did indeed perk his ears up a little.  
    Ghirahim smiled. It was times like this, he realized, that Link’s willingness to trust proved helpful to both of them. “First, I’ve been made Lord over this forest again, only this time at the Goddess’ request and with her blessing. I’ll be guarding a sacred treasure,” he stated.  
    “What?!” Link exclaimed, “Wow, Ghirahim, that’s incredible!”  
    Ghirahim grinned proudly, but held up a finger to silence Link. “That’s not all,” he continued. He shifted his gaze so that he could look Link dead in the eye. “We talked quite a bit about feelings and such matters. I’ve… It turns out my idea to try finding meaning in another person is one of the best decisions I could have made.” Ghirahim paused, exhaling and then inhaling again. “I’ve lost quite a bit of myself. I want to try to find it again, to rebuild. To be reborn, you might say. A phoenix from the ashes. But, I don’t want to do it alone.” He stared intently into Link’s eyes, “Now, Link, let me be quite clear. You are a nonsensical bundle of whims and absurdities. Half the time the things you do and say don’t make sense to me, but what I do know is I enjoy it somehow. Having you around makes me at least feel somewhat alive and interested. So, I have to ask you. Please be my boyfriend.”  
    Link’s concerned face went first into deep shock. But he quickly recovered, and it split into a grin of pure joy. The color was rapidly returning to his cheeks, and his deep blue eyes began to sparkle. “I.. I think you already know my answer to that, Ghirahim,” he said softly, “Of course. I want to be with you.”  
    Ghirahim’s heart utterly melted.  _Somehow, Link, I want to be with you too._ He didn’t have a clue what it would be like, what it would be mean to have someone at his side. But he didn’t need to. He was going to learn, and the prospect felt like a fresh wind blowing through him. “Wonderful,” he answered, his voice somehow remaining steady. “And that brings me to my final order of business.”  
    “What would that be?” Link asked tenderly, reaching up to cup Ghirahim’s cheek in one hand. Clearly, in such a romantic moment, he had expectations. But where was the fun in caving to him so easily?  
    “You’ve utterly ruined my hair and makeup, and I simply can’t allow my boyfriend to see me like this any longer,” he said, a mischievous smile spreading, “I’ll be heading to my lair now, so follow me if you dare.” Then in one swift motion Ghirahim sprang to his feet and glided off, leaving a surprised Link in his wake.  
    Link paused for a moment, then took off after him.  
    “Wait up, jerk! I didn’t get my kiss!”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on DeviantArt!
> 
> https://drbadassphd.deviantart.com/


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